What do my website and capitalism have in common?

Both of their respective demises are spurred on by their internal contradictions.

It’s almost been four years since I started this webpage and I still don’t know what I want it to be. I’m tempted on and off to wipe everything clean, or disappear (but where else could I go?).

Perhaps I’ll stop trying to post-hoc rationalise and categorize everything. The blog is a blog and the bird-nest is a bird-nest. The best course to take might be to continue uploading my writing and my thoughts (and some day, more of my art) until they start, in their aggregates, to form patterns of their own accord.

Once upon a time I would’ve liked this website to be a more polished reflection of me and my technical interests, maybe even something to put on my resume. Yes, like one of those Github pages. But as it stands now, it’s difficult for me to imagine letting people I know in real-life have the link to this site—even though I know very few will read past the first handful of words of anything.

Clearly, this website isn’t a very good educational resource. The expository posts I have written don’t go very deep; they’re scattered across the website without rhyme nor reason; I’m not really an accredited authority of anything I’ve written about.

But neither is this website a proper journal or diary; my posts are too sporadic, too postured or tortured, partly because I’m most inclined to write when I feel bad (so…most of the time), thus everything is tinged with a sour aftertaste: the author’s own sense of dissatisfaction.

But what drew me to Neocities was (and what keeps me on here is) the sincerity of so many websites. It’s so rare to find people anywhere that believe that they have something meaningful to say; even rarer to find people that actually do. Even if they’re trying to sound cool, or putting on airs, the fact that they pitched their tent when they clearly didn’t have to—when it’s so much easier not to—I don’t know, I’m so glad I found this place when I did. I feel as if my life would be emptier if I didn’t know some place like Neocities existed.

For now, I’ll keep writing. I’ll stick around. The worst thing that could happen is that I’ll still hate my website come 2026 (incidentally, the year I graduate college). Maybe then I could finally leave, give the whole thing up, knowing that I tried and failed, slapping a big fat do not resuscitate sticker over the site directory on my hard drive.

I ask myself, to no purpose, what is likely to happen to him? Can he possibly die? Anything that dies has had some kind of aim in life, some kind of activity, which has worn out; but that does not apply to Odradek. Am I to suppose, then, that he will always be rolling down the stairs, with ends of thread trailing after him, right before the feet of my children, and my children’s children? He does no harm to anyone that one can see; but the idea that he is likely to survive me I find almost painful.